


the more i think about him, the harder it gets to breathe

by sepsis



Category: Twisted-Wonderland (Video Game)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Bittersweet, Chapter 4 Spoilers, Crying, Denial of Feelings, Falling In Love, Hanahaki Disease, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, Memory Loss, Misunderstandings, Not Actually Unrequited Love, One Shot, Post-Canon, Self-Doubt, Tragic Romance, Unrequited Love, sebek silv and crewel play very minor roles, very light kalim/malleus idk if its enough to tag, well its complicated
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:40:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27072868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sepsis/pseuds/sepsis
Summary: "Kalim could feel his heart pound against his ribcage, and he let out a shaky breath as he recalled it all: Jamil’s gentle laughter, his steely eyes, his silky hair— he would lose even those minute details?"
Relationships: Kalim Al-Asim/Jamil Viper
Comments: 12
Kudos: 84





	the more i think about him, the harder it gets to breathe

**Author's Note:**

> i was listening to and i love her by kurt cobain as i wrote this. yeah im in Pain

Kalim Al-Asim pressed a trembling hand over his mouth, struggling to quieten the coughs that had seized him from the moment he had awoken that morning. _'If only Jamil was here,'_ Kalim thought longingly, _'he would know what to do.'_   
However, Kalim knew he had to become independent from Jamil, and after all he had put his friend through, he did not want to have him worry anymore. He threw a tense glance over his shoulder, before another fit of coughs wracked his body, forcing him to bend back over the sink and cough until his throat was finally cleared of whatever foreign material had entered it in the first place.   
Kalim’s ruby eyes followed the singular, pearly petal as it fluttered down, resting peacefully against the sink. He had been coughing up these petals for the past few months, but it was only now that it had caused such hindrance so early in the morning. He stared at it in shocked silence, before turning on the sink, and hastily washing it down the drain like he had always been doing. Then, without a single word, he threw on his uniform, and rushed out the door.

Kalim was good at forgetting about things, and this ability helped him to momentarily overlook this morning's incident. He was his normal, cheery self as he laughed to his quiet classmate seated next to him.  
“But really!” Kalim crowed, “if homework is no fun, then why bother doing it?”  
Silver smiled softly. “I’d like to follow that logic, too.”  
“You best not,” cut in the deep voice of their professor. Kalim and Silver immediately straightened their backs and picked up their pencils, as Crewel continued, “unless you’d like to taste my whip?”  
“N-No sir!” the two students chanted in unison. Crewel opened his mouth, preparing to lecture them some more, but the bell cut him off just in time.   
The two were already out the door, throwing rushed goodbyes to Crewel, who simply shook his head as he watched them leave with the rest of his class.  
“Well, we have lunch now,” Silver murmured, his eyelids growing heavy. “I’ll see you… next class… I really need a nap right now.”  
Kalim nodded sympathetically. “Make sure you set an alarm! See ya!”  
With that, Kalim and his friend parted ways, leaving the dorm leader free to greet every Scarabia student he passed as he walked through the halls. Every single student returned his enthusiasm with their own cheery smiles— all but one.  
“Jamil…!” Kalim called over the sea of heads. Despite the hordes of students around him, Jamil’s sharp, grey eyes seemed to pierce through them all and right into Kalim. Kalim uncharacteristically froze for a second, before yelling (a bit too loudly), “good morning, Jamil!”  
Jamil blinked, probably a little embarrassed, before nodding in acknowledgement.   
This was how Jamil would always react, and yet, Kalim was left breathless as Jamil nonchalantly made his way to his next destination. Kalim watched Jamil melt into the crowd, his breathing becoming shallower by the minute, and the strange feeling he had been overcome with that morning returned.  
  
Kalim rushed to the nearest restroom, and had no time to even check the stalls as he bent over the sink, exploding into a fit of coughs that left white petals all over the sink. Kalim stared at the littered sink in disbelief, so overcome with confusion that he never noticed the figure looming behind him.  
“Oh dear,” came Malleus Draconia’s low voice, startling Kalim into action as he splashed the water onto the petals, hurriedly washing them down the drain just as he had done that very morning.  
“M-Malleus!” Kalim gasped, plastering on a shaky smile. “Where did you come from? You scared me!”  
“I did not mean to frighten you,” Malleus assured, his gaze still resting on the (now) clean sink, “though it seems you have a dire issue at hand.”  
“Y-Yeah… I don’t know what’s happening,” Kalim admitted, uneasily shifting his weight from foot-to-foot.   
“Have you ever heard of the _Hanahaki_ disease?” Malleus suddenly proposed. Kalim gave him a blank look, before quietly shaking his head.  
  
The fae descendant paused for a moment, but just as he seemed ready to explain, the explosive cries of _“Young master!”_ filled the restroom. For the second time, Kalim jumped, as Sebek Zigvolt rushed into the area, stopping just a foot or so away from Malleus, who wore a tired smile.   
“Young master!” Sebek hollered. “We’ve been looking for you everywhere! Your next class will begin in five minutes! Let us hurry!”  
Malleus glanced at Kalim, then at Sebek, who was growing increasingly antsy. The taller man sighed, then nodded at Kalim. “Be awake at midnight,” Malleus said, earning a look of confusion from both of his underclassmen.   
“Y-Yes?” Sebek answered unsurely, but shook his head and marched to the entrance of the bathroom, waiting for Malleus to follow. Malleus arched a brow at Kalim, then quietly left the restroom.  
  
The two Diasomnia students left behind a ringing silence, one that Kalim had grown familiar with since Jamil’s overblot. Kalim exited the washroom soon after, wondering what Malleus’s parting words insinuated.

When the school day had come to an end, Kalim made his way to the Scarabia dormitory, where he was met with a burst of warmth, and the smells of a fresh meal. He made his way to the lounge, and felt a rush of happiness at the bustling sight of students chattering over their hot dinners.  
“Kalim,” said a familiar voice from behind him, and he turned to face Jamil, who was dressed in his gym uniform. Strangely, Kalim found it difficult to look Jamil in the eye.   
“Supper is ready in the fridge, the students can help themselves to it an hour from now,” Jamil instructed. “I have to go practice with the basketball club, so tell me now if you need—” Jamil cut himself off, and stared uncertainly at Kalim, before shaking his head and muttering, “just— don’t sleep too late.”   
Kalim nodded, and wordlessly watched him go. The familiar feeling of his chest tightening came back, and he wished the students a precipitous good night, before locking himself inside his room, where he sank to his knees in another coughing fit that he could barely stifle in time. However, he realized that this particular fit was different; for he was gagging as he pulled out the entire stem of a blooming _freesia_ flower.   
  
Kalim held the flower in his hands for a moment, staring at it in horror before throwing it to the ground and pushing himself away from it, as far as he could until he hit the wall behind him. He spat out a few more petals and leaves, then pulled his head cloth loose, and used it to wipe a few stray petals off from his lips. The headcloth brushed against his nose, and Jamil's scent immediately flooded his senses. Kalim was not sure if he wanted to pull away, or breathe it in deeper. His breathing itself was becoming more and more laboured by the second.   
  
He had barely noticed the moon rise into the dark sky, until he heard a familiar voice excuse itself by his open windows. Kalim raised his heavy head to see Malleus, standing upon the ledge, his bright green eyes widened with alarm.   
  
“Asim…” he said, his heels clicking against the floor as he neared Kalim, who threw his head cloth over the fully formed flower that he had tossed earlier, hiding it from view.   
“Malleus,” Kalim said, his red eyes dull, and exhausted. “What’s happening to me? Why is it so hard to breathe?”   
Malleus kneeled next to Kalim, and picked a single petal up from the ground, examining it closely before saying, “These flowers that you’ve been coughing up… how long has this been going on for?”   
“Months!” exclaimed Kalim. “It’s never been this bad… Just a few petals a day, until now. I thought it would've gone away on it's own…”   
“Why haven’t you told your advisor of this? Is it hard to trust him after his overblot—?”   
“No!” Kalim gasped. “No… I still trust him with my entire being. I just…” Kalim trailed off, and stared blankly at his hands.   
“Just…?” Malleus prodded.   
“I don’t want to bother him. He’s not my caretaker, he’s his own person,” Kalim said, and it was only with this sentence did his voice sound calmer. “Despite knowing that not everyone trusts him anymore, he still works hard and cares for everyone at the dorm. He’s so resilient, and smart, I wish I could be like him.”   
This tangent left the two in a brief silence, where Malleus examined the younger boy closely, before oddly asking, “Like whom?”   
Puzzled, Kalim frowned at Malleus. “Like _him!_ My advisor?”   
“You can’t say his name?”   
Kalim stared at Malleus. “O-Of course I can…”   
Malleus crossed his arms. “Then? Say it.”

It was a ludicrous challenge, but before Kalim could say his name, he could _see_ him. All those instances of Jamil stifling his laughter at Kalim’s denseness, the intensity of his eyes when he played those board games, the way his silky hair would fall over his shoulders— this was all that flooded Kalim’s head as he finally found enough of his voice to stutter, “Jami—”

However, the scratching sensation from within his throat returned, forcing Kalim to leave just half of Jamil’s name on his tongue. Kalim cleared his throat, not wanting to look pathetic in front of Malleus, though the man had been watching him with an impassive look for the past few minutes.   
Kalim wanted to try again, but instead, he pursed his lips and looked away.   
“Why?” Malleus pressed, his tone gentle, as Kalim’s fingers began to twine nervously around each other. “Why are you unable to say _'_ _Jamil?’”_

After an eternity’s pause, Kalim finally turned his head and met Malleus’s eyes. Moonlight glinted off of Kalim’s tears, as they rolled down his flushed cheeks.  
 _“I-It hurts,”_ Kalim admitted, petals spilling from his mouth like water. _“The more I think about him, the harder it gets to breathe.”_ _  
_ _  
_ Malleus’s gloved hands reached over, brushing away the petals from his chin so that they joined the ever growing pile on the floor.   
“This,” he said, “is the _Hanahaki_ disease. Because of unrequited love, flowers are blooming within your lungs.”   
“U-Unrequited…?” Kalim echoed, his teary gaze lowering to the piles of petals beneath him.   
“Yes, and if it goes untreated, it can kill you,” Malleus explained, delivering these difficult words as gently as he could manage.   
Kalim said nothing, and let Malleus continue his explanation.   
“It can be cured if the love you feel for him is returned, or if you physically remove these flowers.”   
  
Once again, Kalim turned to face Malleus. He was no longer crying, but the tears left their damp tracks on his face.   
“Malleus,” he said in a hoarse voice, “please help me remove them.”   
“There’s just one thing,” Malleus warned, and watched the worry in Kalim’s eyes deepen. “I can remove them with my magic, however, with the loss of the flowers, will be the loss of your memories of him.”   
Kalim could feel his heart pound against his ribcage, and he let out a shaky breath as he recalled it all: Jamil’s gentle laughter, his steely eyes, his silky hair— he would lose even those minute details?   
  
“I…” Kalim wiped at his eyes, his sorrowful look replaced with a look of determination. “I understand. Remove them, Malleus.”   
Though he did not want to press on, Malleus could not help but ask, “are you sure? Even those memories of your childhood with him will be erased.”   
Kalim breathed in deeply, then flashed Malleus a tired smile. “It’s for the best. If I forget how much I love him, then—” with these words, Kalim seized into another coughing fit, and it was only after he pulled another fully formed _freesia_ out of his throat, was he able to finish saying, “then I won’t be such a bother to him anymore. He won’t have to deal with my feelings for him— he’ll be free from me in that sense.”

Malleus was cognizant of the aching from within Kalim, and knew that he would never be able to change his mind. “Then, take a deep breath,” he said calmly. His soothing voice washed over Kalim, who’s shaky hands fell to his lap.  
Malleus murmured his unique magic, and suddenly, a spinning wheel appeared in between the two men. The spindle at the top of it glowed a gentle green.   
“Prick your finger, just enough to draw blood, and the flowers and memories will be gone,” Malleus commanded.   
Kalim’s wide eyes had developed a gentle green spiral, and he silently raised his hand, pushing down his index finger until the spindle pierced through the skin, and soaked in the drops of blood that followed.   
  
From Kalim’s mouth, an immediate wash of flowers and seeds fell, joining the pools of petals and leaves beneath them, until the surge finally stopped, and Kalim slumped against Malleus, unconscious.   
  
Malleus carried Kalim to his bed with ease, and with a twirl of his finger, cleaned the messy bouquets of _freesias_ off of the floor. Soon, the room bore no evidence of what had occurred just a few minutes prior. Malleus cast one last glance at Kalim, before disappearing into the desert night.

Kalim awoke the next morning, yawning and heading to his bathroom as he always did. He brushed a white petal off of his shoulder, and washed up for the day.  
Tying his head cloth was as difficult as it always was, and after a few minutes of trying, he sighed and tossed it over his shoulder. As he exited the room, he bumped into Jamil, who he knew only as his vice dorm head, and semi-servant.   
“Good morning, Jamil!” he greeted cheerily.   
“Kalim— you still haven’t learned to tie it?” Jamil sighed, and as though by muscle memory, pulled the head cloth from where it had been draped and expertly tied it around his head, perfecting the bow at the side before pulling away.   
Kalim flashed Jamil a bright smile, and thanked him, before heading to the lounge. Though before he could, he felt Jamil’s fingers close around his wrist, and stop him in his tracks.   
  
Kalim turned and looked at Jamil, who stared back at him with his intense, grey eyes.   
Kalim felt his heartbeat quicken, but he had no idea what for.   
“Jamil…? Is something wrong?”   
“No… I was just wondering, are you free to play mancala later?” Jamil asked, his tone a bit huffy.   
“Mancala…?” Kalim repeated, then smiled brightly. “Sure! I’m pretty good at mancala!”   
Jamil rolled his eyes. “Of course, but that’s because I _let_ you win every time.”   
“Hm? Every time?” Kalim widened his eyes in genuine confusion. “Have we ever played mancala against each other…?”   
Jamil stared at Kalim in stunned silence, before quickly regaining his composure. “Huh?” he asked. “What are you saying? We’ve played mancala at least a hundred times from childhood to now.”   
Kalim crossed his arms, and seemed to be in deep thought for a moment, before smiling sheepishly. “Jamil…” he said in a friendly voice, “I can’t remember playing anything with you!”   
Jamil’s eyes flashed with an emotion Kalim could not identify, but before Jamil could say anything more, Kalim had already begun to walk away. Kalim called over his shoulder, “thanks for fixing my head cloth! See you later!” before disappearing around the corner.   
  
Jamil watched him go, then clutched at his hood, his heart pounding irregularly in his chest. “Wh-What does he mean he can’t remember playing mancala with me…?” he asked out loud, ignoring his shaking hands. “We played it so much as kids…”   
Jamil forced himself to take a step forward— he knew he would be late for class if he kept standing here, but he could not shake the cold chill that had seemed to freeze his spine.   
“All it took was a few months for him to begin to forget about me?” Jamil wondered out loud, his chest tightening uncomfortably. “Is that how insignificant I was to him…?”  
Jamil could not help but recall the way Kalim refused to meet his eyes during dinner the day before, and even that small wound at the tip of his finger was inescapable from Jamil's observant gaze.  
Jamil bit his lip. Was this all his fault? Was their relationship unsalvageable? Would Kalim never accept him as anything other than his loyal servant?  
  
Jamil pulled his hood lower over his face, and coughed gently to relieve his suddenly scratchy throat.   
  
To the floor, slowly spun a velvety, maroon petal.

**Author's Note:**

> lets just say kalims hanahaki didnt leave because he believed his love was truly unrequited, even if it partially wasnt. but go easy issa vent fic


End file.
